Friday, August 26, 2011

On this eve of Irene

My Southern roommate suggested we have a Hurricane Party (they exist down there! mind blown!), to fete Irene, the lady of the weekend.
Only when we realized she would arrive an unfashionable day early than expected, that it started getting real.

The #WhiteGirlProblems/#FirstWorldProblems jokes about missing the US Open, or missing a run, or parties being cancelled... have lessened.

People actually paused to read signs in the subway about the scheduled noon closure tomorrow.

The air feels different. Not sure what energies of science are unfurling around me, but the best way to describe how I feel is a mild case of vertigo and maybe even otherworldliness.

The city was a very funny place today. It was as if the incoming storm was a secret everyone thought they must be stoically sworn to secrecy about, and only with a knowing glance in the aisles at the store as you carried your water or query for where you got your batteries were you outed as One Who Knows, Too.

And then there were some carefree, arm in arm on their way to early dinner.

And there were buskers beat boxing on our corner, documented by iPhone by roommate.

The super came by today to fix a door. I offered him some mint chocolate brownies I had whipped up and he declined, citing his veganism. (only here would one have a vegan super! HA!).

My flight to LA is cancelled Monday.

Our cases of water are stacked.

We have cards, books, and Taboo.

Be nice to us, Lady I, won't you?

Gawker, usually the Captains of Snark, rallies us to good cheer

New Yorkers, even during hurricanes, are like no other.


Katie Rich said...

Nice rhyme at the end there. I hope the storm isn't too bad! Hopefully everyone does pay attention to the warnings to as to avoid fatalities.

brook said...

i love this post
and i love the #whitegirlproblems

martha said...

i hope you are alive. it's been a while since you posted last! i kind of miss the east coast. yes, i consider KY the east coast. comparatively speaking of course ;)